Flying Kite
by GoldFountain
Summary: She thought what she desired resided in the sky, laid out of her reach.
1. Out of Sight, But in of Mind

Out of Sight, But in of Mind

–

I was always ever the pacifist, but I never really thought of myself that way. And to be able to imagine that I'd be out traveling through the world – no, universes – was the least to say rather frightening. Not because I was a very sheltered individual – because I am – but rather the thought of being all alone.

Granted, I was lucky and loved to have my beloved Mario stand by my side with undeserving loyalty. He had always rescued me from the clutches of Bowser and other countless villains, no doubt the err on my part for letting myself get kidnapped innumerable times. I was powerless. It's a feeble excuse, but I simply lacked the power to resist, to oppose my terrible foes. That was how I felt alone; I couldn't help, I couldn't repay him back in his times of need.

That was partly the main reason why I decided to accept this invitation to travel in the first place. An invitation that invited notable members of each particular universe – a wonderful honor indeed – along with instructions as to how to accept it, which included a path of self-enlightenment. And a journey to test the values of oneself through a variety of battles was very enticing. For once, I was granted the chance to learn how to defend myself, to learn how to be able to protect my loved ones directly out of my own power. I did not have to become a liability anymore. Little did I understand the long road that awaited me.

Traveling to a place where everyone supposedly had some experience in combat was no doubt intimidating to me. I couldn't know beforehand what I was getting into when I accepted the invitation, but I had a pretty good idea that I was going to be underhanded compared to the rest. Saying that I had a few worries was an understatement. Every single day I was running through my head what kind of battle tactics I could use, tactics that could be used when I was in a dress, as that was my usual attire.

This challenge to my brain brightened me up a bit. Thinking was definitely one of my stronger points, if not the strongest. Psychologically, I felt as though I was moderately prepared. But sometimes mental strength just wasn't enough. There would be others stronger than me, others that had battle-honed senses and reflexes that couldn't be countered by mental preparation, so even then I was outsourced.

But my resolve was strong, and I kept trying to think of ways where I could simply survive. I didn't have to _kill_ – I never thought I'd use the word in that sense – my enemies; I just had to be able to hold my own against them, perhaps beat them to a pulp, and at least be able to make a hasty retreat if need be. Thankfully, the worry of killing was cleared up for me, as it stated in the invitation that all participating will have their lives protected indefinitely until the trials ended.

Simply enduring and retreating was the ideology I had spent the most time dwelling on, for it seemed as though to be the best type of tactic for me. It was a cowardly tactic, yes, but I felt as though it would get the job done. What others thought of me for following this tactic was irrelevant; as long as I had my secured my life and I was intact, I didn't think I'd care what others believed of me. I had already experienced enough prejudice, as I was acquainted with such a thing being in a position of power.

Learning from a mentor was definitely a thought that occurred to me more than once. How nice would it be if I could learn how to battle from someone considered to be prestigious in the gruesome art of battle. There was also the option of befriending someone, a kindred spirit perhaps if I was extremely lucky. That would make dealing with my insecurities a bit easier to handle. But I didn't keep my hopes up for either of these possibilities. After all, this was a journey that I had taken on myself, by my own free will. If I didn't obtain this power myself, I would always be at the mercy of the one who tutored me.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to have some sort of aid. To me, working together was always better than working alone. Mario had already pledged to support me in the best way he possibly could, even though I had politely tried to refuse. Doing such a thing was futile and was simply for the sake of courtesy; I knew that Mario would try and help me no matter what. Luigi too. If only I could repay them. I was rather unsure of the status of Bowser, but some of my spies have reported that he supposedly going on a trip at around the same time as us. Another worry was added to my plates, unfortunately, but I couldn't help but think that it would be the same for other worlds – and universes. Somewhere in the back of my mind wished that, since we were given this chance to participate in something rather grand together, Bowser and I could reconcile with each other, but I felt that in the end, trying to do so would have been a fruitless effort. Plus, I had more pressing matters to think about, such as where I was to be heading for this mysterious battle tournament.

When I saw the location I was to be sent to, I was glad to find myself in a rather welcoming place for a first foray into the world of battle. I can still clearly remember the finely woven words written in cursive inscribed on the letter as though I had opened up the letter just minutes before.

In fine, small print, the letter said that I was to head for the Midair Stadium, a coliseum of sorts located midway between universes as a form of travel entertainment. And to be a spectator, no less!

* * *

A/N: A bit out of character for happy-go-lucky Peach to think so meditatively like this, but it makes for a nice contrast between the fictional world and semi-reality, doesn't it?


	2. The Clouds Fade Away

The Clouds Fade Away

* * *

I knew not the method to which I arrived at the Midair Stadium. It was all a blur to me. My best recollection of it was that I boarded a plane - without a ticket; the invitation was sufficient - and slept for an hour or two before finding out that we had already arrived at our destination. In what I assumed to be in an unladylike manner, I tottered dazedly out of the plane only to be greeted by a sight I was faintly familiar with: the sight of a cheering crowd, eager for festivities to begin.

For one halting moment, I thought that perhaps I was going to be the entertainment. Luckily, a helpful Toad retainer quickly moved towards me and guided me to my designated boxseat.

The box was situated right above the arena, granting a perfect view of the action down below. There were only two seats, but those seats were decorated as lavishly as a king and queen's thrones were ornate. I noticed that I was not alone. Sitting in the seat on the right, I could see a woman with brown hair looking directly ahead, her back poised straight.

The retainer stopped at the entrance of the box and left me by myself. Feeling slightly nervous, I stepped forward and took the other seat. By this time, the other woman had taken notice of my movements, and as I sat down, she turned her gaze towards me.

She gave me a small, tender smile. I took a brief glance at her appearance. The way her facial features were perfectly aligned immediately gave me the idea that she was not your average woman. Her purple dress was adorned with a variety of jewels, and her head was adorned with a golden crown. There was no mistaking it. She was a queen, and if not, then she was definitely still a part of royalty.

Her mouth opened, and a few sounds came spilling out. Maybe I was looking at her too attentively, or maybe it was due to my drowsiness, but I did not catch what she said. I quickly said an apology for my inappropriate conduct at a first encounter.

But strangely, she harbored a befuddled expression after I said my words. Did she not hear what I said? The possibility seemed small. She was the one that initiated the conversation. But perhaps she misheard. I repeated my words to her, this time going ever slightly slower.

But she gave me the same puzzled look. Then she shook her head. Did... Did she not understand me?

As though we shared the same thought, she answered my question by speaking to me once more. All I heard was a jumble of sounds. This proved it. The two of us were speaking different languages. I shouldn't have been surprised, seeing how I was going to interact with people of different universes, but having no means of communication with those not of your world caught me off guard. You would think that someone who was capable of intergalactic travel would be able to create a universal translator.

I tried once more to converse with her, but to no avail. Our words simply weren't getting through. I could feel as though our intentions did, however, as both of us kept jabbering our mouths off with the hope that we would somehow find a magic word that would let us communicate. Finally, after a few minutes of pointlessly spent energy, she decided to break the pattern.

She raised her arm and pointed a gloved finger at her chest. Oh dear, I hoped we weren't going to be playing charades. That was one game I could never figure out the logistics to. But if she was, thankfully even I could decipher her meaning, as she said but one word:

"Zelda."

She was introducing herself. Now that I look back at it, perhaps this should have been our first order of business. Exchanging names. That was not a terribly difficult task, even without understanding even an iota of the other person's language.

Flashing her a deeply overdue smile in return, I raised my arm and did the same.

"Peach."

The other woman, now properly identified to me as Zelda, gave a small, mirthful laugh. I quickly followed suit. All that talk, all that meaningless, brainless chatter, and all we got in the end was each others' names. The whole situation seemed amusingly amateur.

But all we needed in the end really were simply names. That way, we would know who and how to address someone, and let our expressions and tone of voice do the rest of the talking. I was thankful of being made aware of the fact, and even more so for having made my first acquaintance. I felt much more at ease knowing that I could share similar experiences with someone else. Her status of wealth did not really matter as much as the fact that we were both, well, on the same wavelength, per se. If there was a way to let her know, I would have asked that we have a long lasting friendship. The battlefield was no place to make enemies, I had decided.

And then, right on cue, after Zelda and I had reached some degree of progress, a warning bell chimed, announcing the arrival of the main event. Apparently, an exhibition match was going to take place, showing us two particularly of how one of the matches of the trials or tournament was going to be like. I wondered who the competitors were. If the masterminds reserved these seats for us specifically and brought such a large crowd to fill the stadium, then this match was surely going to be great.

The doors on the far side of the stadium opened. Clouds of smoke and confetti billowed out dramatically. I could feel my eyes twinkling with anticipation. This was my first and going to probably be only treat before I had to face off against my own dreaded battles.

From the darkness, a figure slowly emerged. I caught my breath. This was...!

Someone I did not recognize. A small, rather spherical creature tottered out into the arena, squinting at the daylight. He was pink, I realized. And he was absolutely ADORABLE! I couldn't help but childishly squeal with delight. How on earth could such a cute creature be a fighting competitor? I know that it was wrong of me to judge based on appearances, but even so! Something that cute being made to fight was simply criminal!

And as if that weren't enough! Out from the nearer doors emerged the back of a figure I knew all too well. Garbed in red and blue, I caught my breath again when I saw my beloved Mario stand out there in that arena!

But oh dear, my joy faded as quickly as it came. I worried greatly about Mario's welfare. Was he going to be alright, facing an unknown force from another universe? What if this little pink marshmallow packed a punch as powerful as he was cute? I always believed in Mario until the end but I couldn't suppress my feelings of worry.

But... That was almost always the case. No matter what foe Mario went up against, I would feel a pang of hopeless anxiety. My reasons for doing so were partly unfound. Perhaps it was my own insecurity and selfishness that my loved ones return to me unharmed and always victorious, but even I knew that such lofty ideals could never be fully attained.

As I watched the two competitors approach the battlefield, I wondered if the pink fellow was someone that Zelda knew. After all, one of the competitors was someone I was very familiar with. But getting that question across would be nearly impossible with my charade skills.

The sound of the bell again signified the beginning of the match. Or, it should have. But the bell kept ringing. Clearly, there was something wrong. Dark clouds billowed, this time not from the doors, but rather in the sky. The sunny day flashed into one of sudden night. The screams began. Caterwauling, the crowd's anguished yells were drowned out by a sudden explosion, sounding from somewhere in the arena. I couldn't help but marvel at how quickly things could turn to madness and chaos.

I let out a scream of my own, and I could hear Zelda do the same. Was this an attack? Are Mario and that little pink person uninjured? What on earth is happening?

Glass shattered right in front of my eyes. I quickly shut my mouth to prevent an involuntary scream, as doing so I might have swallowed some shards of glass. Shielding my face, I tried to move backwards, only to get yanked painfully off of my feet. The sensation was nausea inducing.

After a few seconds, I opened my eyes, only to find myself back on solid ground. Although, this was both familiar and unfamilar ground. I realized that the setting I was in was none other than the arena itself. Strenuously, I tried to get back on my feet. A quick survey of the situation let me know that I was not going to be able to do so quickly, however, when I saw a menacing black firearm pointed directly at me.

Its wielder shocked me even more greatly, however. The stockiness of the fellow, dressed in yellow and purple, to me, could be identified unmistakably. It was none other than Wario, and it was he who would cause my untimely demise. I blinked, and before I knew it, I was shot without any rescue at all, without even the time to form a final thought.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I sort of condensed that ending part a bit. No Petey, no Mario getting knocked out, just Peach getting trophitized. Well, I fell victim to my mortal enemy: Laziness. Next chapter is the final.


	3. You Are Your Heart

You Are Your Heart

* * *

Screams. And then silence. With my feeling senses as sensually as they should have! I felt a remarkable detachment from the world - or perhaps, my own world - ever since I had arrived at the Midair Stadium. Now was no different, except that I could not remember distinctly if what I sensed was a dream or not. My memory was hazy. For all I knew, I was in limbo, somewhere between the feeling and unfeeling.

By the time I had woken up out of my comatose-like state, I was standing in a dimly lit holding cell, surrounded by iron and steel shrapnel. I could not comprehend how I could still even be alive. The feeling of life surging through my veins brought a rekindling to my brain. Was I was given a second chance, at life, of all things?

But for what reason, I did not know. Did the reason really matter? I was alive, and that simple fact was all that mattered to me during that instant of realization and recreation.

I looked over my shoulder to see Zelda, standing next to me, looking as equally as bewildered as I was. Seeing her in that lavishly embroidered dress with a look of distress brought me more comfort than I would ever have wanted to admit. I couldn't help but feel a little relieved to not be alone in this situation. Loneliness often drove someone to wish for such excruciating circumstances.

Still, we were together, bound together once more by the strange string of fate. We looked at each other, examined each other more thoroughly than we would perhaps ever do so to ourselves. An equal feeling of understanding came between us, I felt. We had returned to the land of the living, if we ever even left in the first place.

Death was not a matter anymore.

_Death was not a matter anymore._

How silly that sentence could ever even be uttered, or even thought. I kept this thought in the back of my brain, as Zelda and I turned our heads to meet our savior.

A rugged, gritty sort of man stood in front of us, carrying what seemed to be explosive on belts straddled across his chest. He was toting more guns on him than I could count, and was wearing a clean cut, black bandana that contrasted with his unkempt stubble. And his eyes – cold and calculating – made him look more menacing than any other person I had come across so far. One would think that this person would be trying to kill us and become our terrible reaper. But I had felt immediately, instinctively, that he was not the one to take our lives away from us. Quite the opposite.

Indeed, my feelings were correct. The man cocked his head over to the hallway behind him, and pointed at us to stay in place. Presumably he wanted us to stay out of danger. Why, he did not tell us. Then, without a sound, he left the room faster than I could blink.

Zelda and I exchanged looks of confusion. Again, I felt a mutual understanding come between us. Did the man really believe that we were going to listen to him? He was probably another one of the invitees, but that did not give us any more reason to believe in him. But, I also knew that I felt as though I had an obligation to repay the man for his supposed rescue of us, and to contribute overall for the fight against any unknown forces.

After all, when we – the invitees - were stuck in a predicament like this, as beings of separate universes with no easy way to communicate, there was nothing to rely on except for the abilities of our bodies for expression. Perhaps one time we were united, but now we are split, very unduly so. We were like the people scattered from the Tower of Babel without a common language, having some cruel, twisted fate bestowed upon us by the murky depths below – or perhaps the gods from above. This simile was truer than I would have liked it to be. Putting the power of language aside, what other use was my own body in this situation? How could I help us all to return to our usual lives? Of all the things that I could be, I was most likely to be a liability.

Still, at least life and death did not matter anymore. There was nothing to hold us back from exhibiting our full potential, our endless desires to be freed from unwanted situations and reclaim as much control over our lives as we possibly could. No goal was unattainable at this state, for those that had the ability to do so – a rather empty claim, as that applied to anything, whether the brain limiters were on or off.

But even so, what abilities did I have? Once again, I was stumped. My battling abilities were definitely lacking, and would not be seeing quick improvement anytime soon. I had to make use of what I could do, instead of dreaming up powers that I didn't have.

Zelda had her magic. She had shown me on our first meeting in the Midair Stadium. I could still remember it clearly: a small, burning kindle of a flame, hovering above her open, outstretched hand. I remember gasping at the sight, leaning in closer to see if it was real. The heat generated by the flame proved it real to me enough.

But I didn't have any powers like that. I didn't have any magic or hokery-pokery. And I definitely didn't make up for my lack of magic with strength. So I would ask myself again: What abilities did I have? If I didn't know – I who should have been the one who knew myself best - then there had to be someone else who could have told me.

A clink of clashing metal snapped me back to reality. I blinked, and suddenly saw Zelda dancing alluringly right in front of my eyes. Zelda smiled at me, putting a finger over her lips in a gentle "Shh"-ing gesture.

Much to my surprise, I realized that Zelda was telling me a secret of hers. She, who I considered to be someone a little less than a stranger, confided in me with a piece of her most precious of knowledge. Although she didn't do it vocally, she showed her secret to me right before my eyes.

I saw her twirl her bangle-covered wrists mysteriously and from the dance a blinding flash of light.

The woman that stood before me was nearly unrecognizable. Instead of the finely embroidered dress fit for royalty, Zelda was now wearing a skin-tight suit that revealed a lean physique I would never have expected out of her. Her head was covered by a balaclava and her body was covered with gauze bandages. The only aspects of her appearance that were remotely similar was her long hair – now tied into a long braid – and the assorted bangles that still rested on her wrists. She would have been truly a stranger if her eyes – the most telling facial feature - were different. But no, her eyes were still mostly the same – a calm and determined hazel brown, although they did look a little red under the dim lighting.

Zelda met my stares with an appreciative smile. She flaunted her looks around for a bit, with the full intent of allowing me to examine her new appearance further. I was amazed by this shapeshifting magic and wondered a great many things about it. After a few minutes, however, we both knew that our time was short and we had to get going if we were to proceed on our own reconnaissance trip.

We opened the door, and a blinding rush of light and wind flooded in, battering and uplifting my dress. I quickly clutched my crown above my head in one hand and pushed down my fluttering dress with the other. After we waited a few seconds to let our eyes adjust, we examined our surroundings more thoroughly.

Judging from the endless sea of clouds and shining rays of sunlight piercing through the metallic door, we were on an aircraft, one that seemed to be a battleship. For a moment, I wanted to take in the sights and simply bask in the marvelous feeling of having the wind blow all of your worries away. But the wind prohibited me from daydreaming and let me focus on making sure my crown and other accessories were held in place, along with my intentions.

Zelda, in her new guise, was much more free from the burden of buoyant fabric compared to me. The two of us let ourselves get accustomed to the wind before deciding to continue, with Zelda taking the first risky step outside. Thankfully, there was a platform on the outside of the ship, granting us a precarious passage - but a passage nevertheless - to what was presumably the deck of the ship.

My guess was spot on. Within a matter of minutes - painstaking as they might have been - we clambered past the last few steps onto level ground.

If I thought my initial view of the sea of clouds was breathtaking, then the sight of the the sky from the deck was life-taking. I had surely seen such sights from the many times I sat in the seat of a plane, but standing outside like this made any previous sight of mine pale in comparison. The sound of the wind was deafening, but it made the experience feel all the more sensual. I marveled at everything, from the rushing clouds to the fresh air to the fact that I was able to stand without feeling any worry of getting blown off the ship. Indeed, the whole thing felt like such a spectacle, much like everything else I had come to experience.

Zelda probably noticed my thoughts were going astray, though, and clasped my hand in hers to bring me back to my senses. She gave me what I thought was a reassuring smile from behind her balaclava, judging from the light creases around her eyes. She tugged on my hand gently to incite me to follow her, and follow her I somewhat involuntarily did, as even her touch could not prevent me from feeling a little dazed.

Before I knew it, Zelda had led me to the front of the ship, right near where the prow was, surrounded by a myriad of cannons that threatened to go off at any minute. Our journey was made possible by the surprising lack of presence; we had not seen one person yet aside from that bearded man earlier. But that did not make the place seem any less threatening.

Indeed, I thought the cannons could have gone off at any moment, and wanted to convince Zelda of the danger once I had known where we were.

Right when I tried to free myself from her grip, however, we both must have heard a deafening explosion. My worst fears were confirmed. The cannons were blasting! Did the crew of the ship finally take note of our escape? Had they finally found us?

Apparently, the cannons' target was not us. Not that they could have aimed for us, having been set into the sides of the ship, thankfully. The cannons were aimed upward. Their crosshairs were focused on something in the sky. My eyes automatically did the same.

In the sky was a fighter jet, judging by the streamlined appearance and rather artistic dodging maneuvers it was performing. I noticed that whoever was piloting the plane had a preference for doing sideways rolls, a tactic that I should have kept in mind in case this person was our enemy.

Zelda was probably thinking the same, as she stood by me staring resolutely at the sky. As I looked at her, once again I was struck by just how utterly remarkable her transformation was. Truly, I imagined that such a skill could have been my saving grace on many occasions.

I did not have much time to think about much else however, when I felt an explosion erupt from behind me. I dove forward and tried to scream, but ended up taking gulps of what tasted like volcanic ash instead. Coughing, I quickly covered my mouth with my sleeve and searched for Zelda, hoping dearly that she did not get caught in the blast.

After the smoke around me cleared, what lay in front of me seemed as though it came right out of an action movie.

Zelda, in her transformed state, was clashing with a well-dressed, furry creature. The two of them were performing somersaults, leaps, dodges that seemed to exceed human proportions, doing things that only the most skilled of stuntmen could have done. Glass littered the area, and it was a wonder that neither of them made a faulty step. The cannons had stopped firing, I noticed. And it seemed that the two had not noticed me yet. Watching them made me feel a pang of envy of their fighting skills.

But wait! Why was I watching them? Wasn't my committment to improving myself created so that I would take more courses of direct action?

Without thinking any further, I had begun to dash across the deck of the battleship, faster than I had ever dashed before. As soon as I reached the two fighting – getting glimpses of their rather terrifying close-combat briefly – I had thrust a hand in urgency, not even considering the danger I was getting into.

Much to my surprise, the two of them paused to look at me, a possible distraction. Were they really that willing to let up their defenses so easily? I couldn't believe it.

I shouldn't have been surprised by now, seeing how complacent most of the people have been, but even so, I've always found myself just waiting in anticipation for the next enemy. I didn't want to experience the whirling mass of thoughts if I think I've died again.

And look at me now! I'm actually trying to comfort someone that is fighting with Zelda, the one person that I had come to trust the most during my stay in this strange world. It would take only a moment out of the world for me to get blasted by a knife or take a gunshot wound through the heart.

But to my disbelief, and presumably this vulpine as well, suddenly the three of us were sharing a cup of tea. I was standing between the two of them, pouring out refills as gently as I could without spilling any. We were having tea on a battleship. A battleship, of all places!

How absurd!

Yet at the same time, how fitting...

I noticed Zelda giving me a small wink from behind her balaclava. How she could sip any tea under that mask, I did not know. But that was a mystery to unravel on another day. We had more pressing matters to attend to, such as introducing ourselves to our new companion.

I suddenly pointed to myself, surprising both Zelda and the vulpine.

With determined and focused eyes, I said clearly:

"Peach."

Zelda caught my meaning. She pointed to herself and said on cue:

"Zelda."

The both of us then pointed and looked expectantly at the newcomer who had a look of disquiet on his face.

In a quiet yet clear voice, the vulpine uttered:

"Fox."

He looked so relieved.

I know I was.

He must have noticed, for he suddenly gave me a small, slightly sheepish smile.

And for what felt like ages, I returned his smile with a smile of my own.

. . .

Until that day, I had never realized that perhaps my strongest suit, my trump card for my freedom, lied in the one ability I had disregarded the most.

The ability to stop the fighting.

For the first time in a long while, I was glad that I was myself.

* * *

A/N: Slight changes to the plotline in the Subspace Emissary, so I apologize for that, and other gaping holes in the plotline. I understand that the ending came off a little abrupt. Zelda referring to herself as Zelda instead of Sheik at times was also for better understanding. Also, I realized I left out a segment Peach's worry for Mario... It is a bit too late to incorporate it in now. Whoops.

This is the first time, I think, that I have ever really delved into a narrative so deeply. It was a nice exercise, and a pleasure to write. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.


End file.
